


Hating Christmas

by SlytherinOwl



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Story, Crossover, F/M, Facebook: Hermione's Haven, Ghosts, I have no idea what I'm even doing, Rare Pairings, Scrooged, probably a crackfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:15:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21924271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlytherinOwl/pseuds/SlytherinOwl
Summary: Sandor hates Christmas and always will hate Christmas.Hermione loves Christmas and always will love Christmas.One of them is wrong about it.Written for Hermione's Haven - Holiday Hideaway 2019
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Sandor Clegane
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9
Collections: Hermione's Holiday Hideaway 2019





	Hating Christmas

Sandor Clegane hated Christmas.

It was as easy as that.

Always had, always will.

It might be because of the scars that his brother had ‘gifted’ him one cold Christmas morning when he was all but six years old, or the fact that Christmas was supposed to be about love and family and Sandor had neither.

Either way, this year he would spend the holiday he loathed so much in Athens.

His boss had sent him here to watch over his unruly son, being his bodyguard, and Sandor was pleased to be as far from his lonely home as he possibly could be. New York to Athens was quite the distance and none of his “well-meaning” friends could bother him about his lack of Christmas spirit this year.

So even when he could not completely escape the dreaded holiday, he could at least escape his acquaintances.

* * *

Hermione Granger loved Christmas.

Always had, always will.

When she had been young, she had spent the day with her parents and grandparents, had been allowed to eat sweets – that alone had made her love Christmas – and they usually had a wonderful time.

Then when the time came and she attended Hogwarts she spent Christmas more often there than not, but she loved every second of it – apart maybe from the Yule ball in her fourth year, that turned into a right disaster.

Since Hogwarts a lot had changed though.

Hermione’s parents could not remember her, so she could not spend the holiday with them, even though she yearned for it. Harry had married Ginny, and with their second child being on the way, Hermione would rather not intrude onto the small family.

Ron and her… it had worked for a while. Until it hadn’t.

There was no explosive fall-out, no cheating. One day she had realised she did not want to spend the rest of her life with him, and when they had sat down to talk about it, he was actually quite relieved.

So here she was now, alone on Christmas.

She had hoped to feel less lonely if she were to go on a holiday, so that’s what she did. She had ended up in Athens, had been there for several days now, and loved the city.

The country had a rich culture and Hermione had the time of her life when she visited the old libraries – muggle and wizard alike.

Things only took a weird turn when she visited an orthodox church – the church of Panagia Kapnikarea.

* * *

Sandor was bored out of his mind.

He had a day off, so no watching the little jerk Joffrey embarrass himself while trying to chat up women, and decided it was time for some sightseeing.

He had wandered around Athens until he found the Church of Panagia Kapnikarea. Figuring it might be worth checking out, he entered through one of the wooden doors – just to immediately bump into somebody.

The someone he bumped into started apologising to him in a British accent.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you…” she trailed off when she saw his expression.

He looked as sour as he did most of the time, face set in a scowl.

“Yeah, sure you didn’t.” He muttered. He did acknowledge though that she didn’t seem fazed by his scars though, and she did not stare at them either.

“I really did not. I’m sorry.” Her voice was soft when she awkwardly shuffled out of the way so that Sandor could walk past her.

Sandor did not reply and walked past her.

The woman had left when another voice spoke to him.

“Not your best behaviour.” A voice, strangely neither man nor woman, said next to his good ear.

Sandor made an effort not to flinch.

“The fuck?” He asked when he spun around and stood in front of a person, neither male nor female, with strangely big grey eyes.

“You used to be such a nice child, Sandor,” the voice continued, “troubled, but nice. A soft spot for the downtrodden. Now you seem rather downtrodden yourself, if I may say so.”

Sandor scowled.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Oh, I’m the past. I know what has happened and what was meant to happen. I know what made you fear love, or a family. But you were not always like this.” The person smiled slightly.

“Leave me alone.” Sandor rasped and stepped out of the church again.

How did the person know his name?

He did not get very far, when a young woman spoke to him.

“Your friends are celebrating, you know?” She asked while looking directly at him.

Still reeling from the strange man in the church, he asked confusedly “what?” before he could think better of it.

“Your friends. Bronn for example, he will get engaged tonight. He will be elated. He would have loved to have you there to celebrate with him. Or Tormund, he spends the day alone instead of with his family. But you are almost his family, are you not? But when he asked you, you were quite rude about telling him how you don’t celebrate Christmas.”

Sandor just stared for a second. This must be an elaborate prank.

“Who are you?” He asked.

“The present, Sandor Clegane.”

And with that the figure turned to walk away but said something over her shoulder when passing.

“And the woman you bumped into earlier? She is all alone here today. She was not afraid of you. You could be alone together for a while.” The present shrugged and disappears into the crowd of people who were crossing the street.

Sandor was contemplating whether he had lost his mind or whether someone was playing an elaborate prank on him when a finger slowly brushed down his bicep.

This time Sandor actually flinched.

“Sandor Clegane.” A voice said, old and ominous sounding.

When he turned an old man, seemingly more dead than alive, looked at him.

It was disturbing that the old man was of the exact same height as Sandor and Sandor felt like taking a step back from him.

“You will be alone. You will live alone. You will die alone. If you don’t change your ways.” The man took a step in his direction.

“Find something worthwhile. Find it now. It might be closer than you think.” When the man took another step in his direction suddenly a soft voice from behind him spoke.

“Don’t move. Leave him alone.” The woman that had run into him earlier walked around Sandor; a stick clutched in her hand.

“Find it now.” The old man smiled again, his smile revealing that there were apparently no teeth left in his mouth.

When the woman lifted her arm, the man suddenly vanished into thin air.

“Well, that was… quite something.” She sounded a bit resigned.

Sandor did not move nor answer.

“Are you okay?” The woman asked.

He let out a breath.

“Yeah. What were those?” He shook his hand into the direction of the vanished figure.

“I have no idea. My name is Hermione, by the way.” She lifted the hand that was not clutching a stick to shake hers.

“Sandor.”

“Do you fancy getting something to eat while we try to work out what the hell that was?”

He nodded, too confused to think it through. The curly haired woman smiled.

In the end, they had dinner, met again for breakfast the next morning and ended up spending most of Christmas day in each other’s company.

Maybe he had indeed found something worthwhile.

Something that could maybe even make him appreciate the holiday season. Just maybe.

Sandor Clegane had always hated Christmas.

Always had, he had thought, and always would.

He was wrong though. From tolerance came love, and when the time came that his own family sat around the tree, he felt oddly content with this holiday he had sworn to loath.

Hermione Granger had always loved Christmas.

Always had, always would.

She was right.

Christmas was the most beautiful time of the year in her opinion, and up until this day she was eternally grateful for having met Sandor all those years ago in Athens on Christmas, with the help of a few ghosts who could not stop their meddling.


End file.
